


Nosedive

by Anonymous



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Accidental Pregnancy, Alpha Kylo Ren, Alpha allegiant general Pryde, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Character Death, Hurt No Comfort, Hux is Not Nice, I am not kidding please READ THE TAGS, Implied/Referenced Abortion, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Omega Armitage Hux, Pregnant Armitage Hux, Pryde is Not Nice, Rape/Non-con Elements, Spoilers for The Rise of Skywalker, nobody is nice, read the tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:55:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21864757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Omegaverse. Hux makes a decision.CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR TROS!
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Pryde
Comments: 14
Kudos: 230
Collections: Anonymous





	Nosedive

**Author's Note:**

> Is there a kind of fix-it fic that actually makes things worse rather than better?
> 
> Because this is that.

Pryde was not as Kylo had been.

If Kylo had been cold, it was because Hux fell beneath his notice. The omega General was no fool. He knew that Kylo only came to him because the pull of his oncoming heat offered a comfort that the alpha scavenger girl had denied him. And though his throat was still bruised from the force-choking, Hux allowed it to happen.

The stress of pursuing the _Raddus_ had caused his suppressants to fail. He was behind schedule, and tired, and perhaps he'd needed comfort too.

And if Kylo had been cold, he had at least, as well, been gentle. Surprisingly so, for a man so demonstrably violent otherwise. He'd slipped off his gloves, laid his cool hands on Hux's back when he'd found the General passed out on the floor of the fresher. Hux had no idea how long he'd been out. It didn't matter by that point.

"You need medical care, General," Kylo had murmured. "You're burning up."

"I'm in heat, you idiot," Hux managed. "There's nothing they can do for me." He'd been hoping a cold shower and a layer of scent-blockers would see him through the next few hours until he could rest properly. Obviously he'd fallen at the first hurdle, and now the cold tile of the bathroom floor was like a lingering, chastising slap against his skin.

Kylo could have left him there to suffer. He almost did, but Hux reached up and grabbed his wrist as he rolled over onto his back, still too weak to stand.

"Help me," he croaked.

"You don't want my help." Had Kylo's eyes been lingering on those bruises? Hux would never know. (He liked to think so, in retrospect. It made things easier.)

"You've helped me before," Hux told him haughtily. "I can't spare the time, not when the order is in chaos." He was almost proud of how coherently he made his case. "You need me. And right now, I need you."

Those dark eyes held Hux's own for another moment. Then, wordlessly, Kylo stooped to sweep Hux into his arms, and Hux was too far gone to protest the indignity. Though he could have walked, if he'd chosen to.

Kylo dumped him onto the bed. Hux's flesh was damp with sweat and slick between the legs. He reached for Kylo as the alpha undressed, not caring overmuch when his hand was pried away to allow one more item of clothing to be shed and tossed aside. Finally the mattress dipped with Ren's weight and Hux climbed into his lap, his lips seeking the other man's hungrily, his legs wrapping around Ren's waist.

"Hurry. Up," he'd hissed. The sound Kylo made against his ear was almost a laugh. But not quite.

Hux had missed this; the feel of his large hands, those rare smirks, the stretch of his girth as he eased his cock inside. He dug his nails into Kylo's back and keened as Kylo rocked into him, bit down viciously on his shoulder, and all the while Kylo had allowed him to ride out his need and kissed his neck and taken in his scent with long yearning breaths and for the brief space of Hux's climax they'd actually felt _close_ again. And then Kylo's knot had swelled and held taut inside him, and he'd let go, breathing hard, his hips angling to allow Hux to fall back and, eventually, pull Kylo to rest atop him.

It wasn't quite the same as it been before. But it was something. It had helped. And then, when the knot had gone down once more, Kylo had pulled off him to dress without looking back.

"You're not on birth control any more, are you?"

"No." Hux grabbed a bottle of water from his bedside table, drained it breathlessly. "I'll take care of it."

And he had. Or. Well. He thought he had. 

Of course there was always a margin of error. _Of course_ this was the one time Armitage had been unlucky, the one time he could not have afforded this to happen, and though he considered a swift and decisive solution, he had been foolish enough to entertain the idea that this child could cement his position as Kylo's right hand.

The sudden appearance of Allegiant General Pryde taught Hux a number of things he was otherwise unaware of.

First, that he was entirely disposable in Ren's eyes - not just professionally, but personally.

Second, that Kylo had no idea he was pregnant. He'd thought at first the Supreme Leader just didn't care. But as the weeks passed, it became clear that Kylo did not have as much insight into Hux's thoughts as the General had always feared.

His bitterness tempered this new knowledge into intent, then plans, then, finally, action. He hardened his heart against Kylo Ren, contacted a Resistance informer, and then, knowing his window of opportunity was quickly drawing to a close, he turned to Pryde.

If Kylo had been cold, it had come from apathy and distance. But Pryde's coldness came from a different place entirely. His nose had crinkled into a disdainful sneer at the scent of Hux's artificial pheromones, and when Hux had made a show of throwing himself on the older alpha's mercy, there had been cruelty in his eyes as well as lust.

He'd kept Hux waiting in his quarters for two hours. Then, striding in with a contemptuous deliberation that would have driven him mad if he'd _actually_ been in heat, he'd ordered the General onto all fours and slapped his rear before abruptly shoving into him.

It was rough. Perfunctory. Humiliating and almost painful, despite the lubricant that Hux had managed to apply before Pryde arrived, but he would endure it for the sake of his position.

He had more than himself to think about now, after all. As much as he tried not to.

Pryde called him _omega_ and taunted him for his weakness and pressed Hux's face hard against the mattress as he fucked into him, wrinkled hand clutched painfully in his hair. And all the while Hux consoled himself with the fact that they would one day take Kylo Ren down _together _and then all he'd need to do was get rid of Pryde and then it would just be him, and his child, and their rightful place in the galaxy, and all he'd need to do was endure, just a little more, Armitage, a few more months, a few more years, _just a little longer, omega, almost there -_

Pryde's coarse and patronizing monologue ended with a low groan as the Allegiant General knotted inside him. When it was over, he tossed Hux's discarded tunic at him and told him to make himself presentable. And then he was gone.

Hux never really expected the Resistance to succeed. Even when he'd led the traitor and that scumbag pilot to their escape, he'd only been hedging his bets. But it was true that he didn't care if the First Order won, now. Because he'd have Pryde and his child, or Leia and her grandchild, and in either case Kylo Ren would lose and General Hux would not.

And he'd kept thinking it all the way to that shot in the belly on the bridge.

He must have known, the bastard. Pryde must have known all along, because why else would you shoot someone in the stomach at point-blank range unless it was a calculated decision, a _deliberate insult_?

It didn't kill him immediately. And although the pain was creeping through the shock and he could feel the cold coming into his skin, that traitorous, hopeful voice was still whispering into his ear as his hand moved to rest on his stomach and the troopers moved to drag him away.

You can still salvage this. You can still win.

Maybe you can't stand up but you're not dead yet. They're dragging you away but you're not dead yet.

Just stay awake a little longer, Armitage.

Just a little longer.

Just. Just.


End file.
